


Mischief and mayhem on Halloween

by Twilight Fang (Asthenos)



Series: The places Stiles takes Derek [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Halloween, Humor, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8193268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang
Summary: Stiles is determined to take Derek to a Halloween party, even though his wolf is hell-bent on not going.  But quite a few things go wrong before, during, and after the party.This is a standalone fic that can be read alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is yet another fic inspired by the wonderfully kind comments left on "Taking Derek for a walk". Many thanks and hugs for everyone who takes the time to leave kudos and comments on this story! :)

_~ Do you really want to hurt me_

_~ Do you really want to make me cry_

_~ Precious kisses words that burn me_

_~ Lovers never ask you why_

_~ In my heart the --!_

“ _Attention shoppers! Would the owner of a 2012 Blue Mazda3 please return to your vehicle. You are double parked in a designated handicapped spot.”_

Stiles paused with his hand lingering over a bag of extra cheesy Doritos, not moving again until the eerily melodramatic voice of Boy George from the Culture Club continued to harp on about his love woes in the classic 1982 _torch song_.

 

“Wal-Mart does know that its main customers are children today, right?” Derek muttered sarcastically as he knocked Stiles’ hand away from the chemically colored potato chips and ushered him down the aisle. Because physical force was the only way to move Stiles away from snacks, video games, and the NC-17 section of the rental video shop.

 

“Huh?” Stiles glanced up and down the aisle, confirming what Derek had already noticed – there wasn’t an adult in sight. Every kid in the junk food aisle had to be about the size of a Twinkie and just as unhealthy looking. There were grubby little hands snatching up Mars bars, m&m’s, Skittles, and Lay’s potato chips. And even more munchkins were doing their best to reach for the Oreo cookies and Rice Crispy Squares on the higher – and more inaccessible – shelves.

 

“Exactly,” Derek said, as if he had realized the precise moment when Stiles’ train of thought had linked up with his own. “They’re playing trashy music from over three decades ago about broken hearts, backstabbing, and casual sex to an underage audience. These kids are going to go back to their parents completely confused about what it means to _use_ someone and _throw them away_.”

 

“Relax, Derek. It’s not your problem,” Stiles said with just a touch of amusement in his voice. “Unless you feel like going to the back and telling off whoever is in charge of the music.” And what troublemaking loser really wanted to go off and do something stupid like that?

 

“Can I?”

 

Thankfully, all the years that Stiles had spent playing video games had honed his reflexes, bestowing him with an assassin-like speed. He caught Derek’s arm before his boyfriend could go after whatever depressed – or nostalgic – dimwit was flooding the store speakers with mournful hits from yesteryears. “No, Derek. This isn’t a radio station where you get to call in requests. You either put up with the crap they’re playing, or get out of the store.”

 

“Then can I wait for you outside?” There wasn’t even a hint of playfulness to Derek’s annoyed tone. It was pretty obvious that the wolf had had his fill of Wal-Mart and wanted to escape the commercial land of discount items and bright yellow sales tags.

 

“Hell no! You’re not leaving me in here to provide obligatory parenting to a bunch of six-year-olds--. _Hey! Kid! You pocket that and it goes on your criminal record. For life!”_ Satisfied when the kid in question stopped trying to jam a pack of Lifesavers into his pocket – instead choosing to throw them onto the floor and run off crying – Stiles wrapped an arm around his clad-in-black-from-head-to-toe wolf and prevented him from escaping. “Now listen up, we need to get everything on Scott’s list for the Halloween party he’s throwing tonight. And as much as I would love to gaily frolic up and down every frickin’ aisle with you, we don’t have the time for that.”

 

“Fine,” Derek conceded in annoyance. “Tell me what you need and I’ll go and find it.”

 

“Most of the stuff on Scott’s list is actually in this aisle, but for some reason the disorganized people who work here decided to display the Halloween party bags somewhere else. I need you to find 10 variety bags, 5 Reese’s Pieces bags, a bag of Sun Maid seedless raisins, and a bag of Twizzlers – the red ones, not the black ones.”

 

Derek’s dark bushy eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at the list that Stiles had scrunched up in his hand. “Reese’s Pieces aren’t on the list.”

 

Did Derek have to take everything so literally? So what if they weren’t on the list? Stiles had asked for them and what Stiles asked for, Stiles damn well got! “They’re on _my_ list. Now off you go. Don’t come back until you’ve found everything.”

 

“I still don’t see why I have to go with you to this Halloween freak show,” Derek complained. “I don’t even like Halloween.”

 

“It’s pretty simple, really. _I_ like Halloween, so _I_ want to go to Scott’s Halloween freak show. And you’re dating me, so by default you’re expected to show up as well. End of story.” As Derek began to grumble about life with Stiles being horribly biased and unfair, Stiles interrupted him with a juicy kiss on his dark fuzzy cheek. “Quit acting like such a martyr and just get me my chocolate,” He smirked when Derek blushed and hastened down the aisle in a much more positive mood. “Predictable wolf,” he smirked to himself, before turning his attention to the fizzy drinks. On second thought, maybe he should have asked Derek to stay a while longer. How the hell was he going to carry twelve 2-litre bottles of Pepsi up to the checkout counter by himself?

  

* * *

 

_Reese’s Pieces._

_Reese’s Pieces._

_Reese’s Pieces._

 

Stiles’ favorite morning, afternoon, and after dinner snack. Although Stiles didn’t actually eat the peanut-buttery concoction more than once a day, he did think about it more often than that. Sugary treats tended to help the hyperactive Stiles focus his mental energy, or speed it up to the point where his brain cells began to accelerate past the legal inter-dimensional speed limit. Regardless of what Derek thought of the garbage that his boyfriend ingested, he would still buy it if it kept Stiles happy. Derek liked to see Stiles happy. A happy Stiles was a romantic and affectionate Stiles, and there was nothing that Derek enjoyed more than being smothered with warm hugs and kisses by that kind of Stiles. Not that he’d ever come out and openly admit it.

 

Reaching the back of the store, Derek took a right and followed the path of promotional sales items to the opposite end.

 

 _Twizzlers. Check!_ Derek roughly grabbed a bag of the twisting red candy sticks from one of the displays and shoved it under his arm, making one hell of a noise crinkling up the plastic while he was at it. _Old Maid seedless raisins. Check!_ Because they looked so much like _Sun Maid_ that Derek didn’t think that anyone would notice the difference. _10 Variety bags of chocolate…_ Hold on a minute! Those were some fairly big bags of candy!

 

Temporarily putting his memory of that shopping list on hold, Derek dragged himself all the way back to the front of the store, grabbed a shopping cart, and pushed it back the way he had come. _Stupid squeaking metal contraption. Check!_ On his way past the electronics section, a young girl with a pair of dark googly eyes protruding from behind her blocky square glasses gave him a suspicious look. _No, I’m not a shoplifter. Look somewhere else, lady!_ Why was everyone so judgmental against people who dressed all in black? Derek liked black – a lot. Black jeans. Black t-shirt. Black leather jacket. Black. Black. Black. If it wasn’t black, Derek probably wouldn’t take out his credit card for it.

 

_“Attention shoppers! Would the customer who knocked over a row of Pepsi bottles in Aisle 5 please come to the service counter to pay for the damages?”_

_Stiles?_ Now who was the one getting into trouble? _10 Variety bags. Check!_ Derek began to push the cart a bit faster, picking up speed as he dashed down one of the aisles. There was no way he was going to let Stiles find those Reeses Pieces first. He would never hear the end of it if that happened. _Kanima. Ch--!! What the fuck?!_

Derek let go of the shopping cart as he stumbled back in fright, watching it crash into a six-foot-tall towering Kanima, complete with reptilian eyes, paralytic claws, and a long monstrous tail that was dragging on the floor.

 

“What the fuck, dude?!” The Kanima shouted in a pissed off manner as he grabbed hold of the cart and thrust it back at Derek, twice as hard.

 

But Derek was already running in the other direction, choosing an aisle at random to dart down in the hopes of losing the slithering Kanima. _Stiles! Where are you? Stiles!_ How could a Kanima have entered the store unnoticed? It was in the middle of a Wal-Mart stocking up on semi-expired discounted Men’s Degree Dry Protection deodorant for crying out loud! Who the hell wouldn’t have noticed _that_?! And now it was after Derek!

 

Normally Derek would have shifted and attacked the Kanima, or slashed it up at the very least. But this was Halloween and there was a full moon outside, which made him a little on the irrational side. Something about the combination of lunacy and demonic children rioting for candy made Derek just a tad off-kilter.

 

As Derek ran past a stack of toilet paper, and took a hard right at the corner of a bunch of cottony soft tissue boxes, things started to get bigger. And the ground began to get closer. _Now what?_ But Derek continued to run, the candy he’d abandoned long forgotten, as he tore through the store looking for Stiles. The faster he ran, the louder the _clack clack_ of his nails scratching up the flooring sounded in his pointed furry ears. _Oh shit…_ Derek screeched to an abrupt stop, his claws shredding up a long stretch of flooring, as he turned his head to get a good long look at his body. His fluffy, ebony black, bushy-tailed and rather small wolfish body. He was now only around the size of a standard dog but would surely attract a lot more attention than one.

 

“Oh! Oh my!”

 

Derek looked over his right shoulder at the kindly old grandmother who was eyeing him up and down. _Stiles?_ Maybe she could help him find his boyfriend, and get him the hell out of Wal-Mart! Very cautiously, Derek approached the old lady with his tail down between his legs and his ears flattened and turned down to the side. When the old lady reached into her bag and smiled at him, Derek allowed his tail to flop out, just a little, and gave it a friendly wag. He could play the cute lost puppy just as easily as he could get all badass and ferocious when facing down supernatural monsters. Very slowly, the old lady began to pull something out of her bag. _Reese’s Pieces?_

“Good doggy,” the grey haired, slightly hunched grandmother praised, as she withdrew a small canister from her very large, and very heavy looking, hobo bag.

_Whipped cream?_ No, that didn’t look like--. _Shit! Pepper spray!_ Derek gave a sharp yelp, whipped his body around in the opposite direction, and raced down the home detergent aisle.

 

“Come back, you stupid mutt!” The now psychotic looking grandmother hollered after Derek.

 

 _I hate Wal-Mart! I hate Halloween!_ Hell, Derek was beginning to hate the entire human race as he tore through the store, eliciting screams of fright wherever he went.

 

* * *

 

Down by the home improvement supplies, Stiles was taking a break beside a shelf of tools. He’d had to get away from the food section extra quick after he’d knocked over that row of Pepsi bottles all over the floor. Damn faulty bottle caps! How was he supposed to know that fizzy bottles exploded on impact? Well, Scott had only given him enough cash to cover the party supplies, and that was all Stiles intended to pay for. He was _not_ going to fork out his own allowance for damaged merchandise that hadn’t been shelved properly in the first place.

 

 _“Attention shoppers! Would the owner of a medium sized black – Well, what the fuck is it, you dumbass?! Is it a dog or cat?”_ There was a static-filled pause of silence before the announcement continued. _“Would the owner of a medium sized black dog with – What the hell have you been smoking?! – glowing blue eyes please restrain your animal? Have a nice day and thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart.”_

“Attention jackass, try covering the microphone before bitching to your coworker,” Stiles snickered to himself. Then his expression became serious as he realized what had just been said. A medium sized black dog with glowing blue eyes? _Derek!_ What in the holy hell was Derek doing shifting in the middle of a Wal-Mart?! Stiles stuffed his armful of snacks in between the hammers and the wrenches and took off in the direction of the loud commotion he could hear coming from the back of the store. He sped it up to a brisk jog when he heard a familiar whimper and then the scampering of furry feet and untrimmed claws hurrying down another aisle.

 

“Derek!” Stiles hissed, his eyes darting from right to left as he searched the store for his ebony black, glossy wolf. Just as he was rounding a corner, he spotted a fluffy black tail trailing very close to a shelf of stationery goods, knocking erasers, stickers, and notebooks onto the floor. “Derek!” He mock shouted again, rushing forward and catching his wolf before he could escape. Dropping to his knees, he hugged his trembling wolf in relief and glared into those luminescent blue eyes. “Are you nuts? Why did you shift? You’re sooo damn lucky this place has a low budget and half the cameras in here are either fake or not hooked up.” When Derek pushed into his arms and began to nuzzle his neck, Stiles sighed. “What’s got you so freaked out?” He petted his wolf’s soft furry head and glanced over at a temporarily abandoned shopping cart off to one side. “You can tell me later. For now, we are going to finish our shopping and get the hell out of here.” Straightening up again, Stiles went over to the cart, emptied out a bunch of condoms, three tubes of lube, and a bottle of Aspirin, and then motioned for Derek to get in. “Come on, hurry up!”

 

As soon as Derek had leapt into the shopping cart, Stiles got him to curl up as small as possible inside it. He then took off his plaid shirt and used it to cover up – and hopefully hide – the stunning ebony wolf who continued to watch him with those really vivid blue eyes.

 

And then Stiles retraced Derek’s disruptive progression through the store, following the trail of upset store clerks, terrified customers, and a large man dressed up as a Kanima – at which point Derek closed his eyes and whimpered loudly – before he found his wolf’s discarded pile of black clothing. Adding it to the plaid shirt, he bundled the clothing on top of his wolf and then zigzagged back through the store until he found his junk food pile, the candy on Scott’s list, and a costume for the Halloween party. And, while Derek was cowering under that pile of clothing, Stiles took the liberty of choosing him a costume as well.

 

At the checkout counter, Stiles watched everything being scanned through, inconspicuously adding a few bottles of Pepsi that he found on display near the line to the conveyor belt.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about ten bottles of exploded Pepsi down in Aisle 5, would you?” The stony looking teenage boy from Stiles’ English class asked as he scanned the bottles one by one.

 

“Nope. I know no evil,” Stiles said innocently.

 

“Hey! Isn’t that the rabid dog that some old lady was complaining about?”

 

“Who? Him?” Stiles scoffed while indicating innocent fluffy Derek, all curled up with his face hidden beneath his tail. “He’s harmless. Nothing but a timid, glossy wolf-dog. I think that you’re looking for the Doberman that I ran into down by the fish tanks.”

 

“A _Doberman?!”_ The poor kid looked terrified as he accepted the cash from Stiles, returning the change with shaking fingers.

 

“Well, you have a nice day now.” Stiles quickly pushed the cart out into the parking lot, where he began to scold Derek. “The next time you want to get revenge on me for dragging you shopping, try something a little less dramatic. Like shoplifting. I don’t think that they would put you down for shoplifting.”

 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Derek protested as he shifted back to his sexy human self. Thankfully still hidden by the various articles of clothing that were covering him up, otherwise they might be faced with more trouble out in the parking lot. Trouble of the naked kind. “I saw a Kanima and got a bit nervous.”

 

“A bit nervous? Derek, you had children screaming left, right, and center. And you nearly gave some old lady a heart attack.”

 

“I nearly…?! That old lady tried to kill me with pepper spray! You should’ve seen the look on her face! And you’re one to talk. Knocking over Pepsi bottles and then running off to another section of the store to hide. Whatever happened to taking responsibility for your actions?”

 

“That’s nothing! You ran away from a man in a lizard costume!” Stiles couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing as he pushed the cart up to the driver’s side door of Derek’s black Camero.

 

“Very funny. It looked real from where I was standing. How do you know that there weren’t two of them?” Derek looked partially mortified, and a whole lot embarrassed at the thought that he’d bolted from a stupid Halloween costume.

 

“I’m not going back in to find out. Now, are you going to drive naked or do you want to pass me the car keys and get in the back?”

 

Derek passed Stiles the car keys, draped his jacket over his waist to hide his crotch, and sprang cunningly from the shopping cart into the car the second Stiles got the door open. From there, he climbed into the back and began to get dressed. “I really don’t want to go to this stupid Halloween party, Stiles. Especially after this.”

 

“Don’t be silly. Of course you want to go.” Stiles left the cart in the empty parking spot beside the Camero and got in to start the car.

 

“Shouldn’t you put that back?” Derek asked, indicating the cart. “It could scratch someone’s car.”

 

“We’re already running late, so, no. And if I put it back, then that guy over there, and that couple over there, should also put their carts back. One person isn’t going to make a difference, Derek.” Backing the car out of the parking spot, Stiles entered the address of the warehouse that Scott had rented for the Halloween party in the GPS navigation system. “Happy Halloween party, here we come!” He cheerfully exclaimed as he set out for a much anticipated, frightful night.


	2. Chapter 2

“Stiles, you love me, right?”

 

Stiles felt just a tiny bit of guilt at the insecurity that was bundled up in those five innocent words. Leaning up against the closed bathroom door, Stiles covered his hand with his mouth to smother the giggles that were threatening to burst loose. _Awww, poor insecure wolf._

 

“Of course I love you, Derek. Why wouldn’t I love you?” Stiles loved Derek so much there wasn’t anything in the world he wouldn’t do for him. He would lie for him, steal for him, even commit murder for him. Well, maybe not murder. But all the other crazy cliché displays of love he was up for. “Are you going to come out now, or do I need to come in there to get you?”

 

“You might need to come in and get me because I don’t think that I want to come out dressed like this.”

 

 _Don’t laugh. Try not to laugh._ But Stiles _really_ wanted to laugh. “Come on, we’re going to be late. Let me see the costume.”

 

There was a very long pause, and then the door opened a crack, wide enough for Stiles to catch a glimpse of a flopping ear. “I look ridiculous,” Derek grumbled, moving aside when Stiles nearly knocked down the door in his haste to get inside.

 

“No way! You look… _adorable_!” Stiles grinned from ear to ear, no longer having any reason to laugh. Goofy and awkward he could laugh at, but super cute he just had to _squeeze_. “You make the cutest bunny ever,” he exclaimed, pulling Derek into his arms and snuggling against his warm, furry costume.

 

“You’re joking, right? Stiles, I can’t go to Scott’s Halloween party dressed like a stuffed animal. People will make fun of me.”

 

Stiles admired the cheerful, yet sexy, black bunny costume he had picked up for Derek out of an adult novelty shop. The pink one had been a bit over the top, but this one was perfect. The only thing it was missing was a pair of big bunny feet, but Stiles hadn’t been able to afford those. He had needed to shop on a really restricted budget, so he’d barely been able to pay for the bunny costume itself. He’d gotten a 10% discount though because one of the ears was broken, flopping forward instead of pointing upwards, which was fine by Stiles because he thought that it looked much cuter that way. It was also a complete costume so the furry bunny hood and mask covered everything except for Derek’s eyes and mouth. He even had a cute pink bunny nose.

 

“No one’s going to make fun of my bunny.” Stiles snuggled his bunny some more and then playfully whacked the fluffy white tail on the backside of the costume. “Okay, cute bunny, hop your way into my jeep.”

 

“Stiles, no,” Derek protested. “We’re mismatched. A vampire doesn’t hang out with rabbits.”

 

“Sure they do. Every vampire needs a familiar.”

 

“ _Witches_ have familiars, not vampires. And familiars are usually black cats, not fluffy bunnies.”

 

“Whatever. Same difference.” Adjusting his fake vampire fangs and red Count Dracula cape in front of the mirror, Stiles checked out his bunny’s – _scratch that –_ his _wolf’s_ backside out of the corner of his eye. And what a shapely backside it was, all fluffy and furry and not in the least bit baggy. Loose and unflattering costumes were what one usually got at the department store or the toy store. But the adult novelty shop was all about form-fitting and form-flattering. If that bunny costume had been any tighter, it would have been revealing all of his wolf’s assets, and those were only for Stiles to play with. Besides, a little mystery went a long way in promoting one’s sex appeal. Derek had enough of that to go around and then some. “Wolf-bunny, get your puffy tail into my jeep, before I take you to the dollar store to pick up some pink ribbons to pin onto your ears and collar.”

 

Derek could run quite fast when given the proper motivation. But the sight of a sexy, furry bunny flying down the stairs to the front door really boggled Stiles’ mind. The only thing that stopped him from giving chase and yanking that puffy tail into the bedroom for some Halloween warm-up fun was the thought of Scott accepting all the praise for the party down at that warehouse tonight. For sure Stiles was not going to let that happen. Not when _he_ – and not Scott – had been the one to organize the catering, and done the candy shopping, and placed the ad on Craig’s List for Halloween strippers. The only thing that Scott had really done was found the warehouse, gone half on the rental fee, and invited people. Like how hard was it to invite people? In Beacon Hills, all you needed to do to get someone to come to your party was to mention either free food or booze. After that, the only way you’d be able to get rid of them was with a call to the local sheriff’s department.

 

 _What an evilly handsome vampire I make,_ Stiles thought smugly to himself as he flung his cape over one shoulder and went off in search of Derek.

 

* * *

 

“Stiles, there are a million people here,” Derek fretted in the parking lot of the warehouse that was jam-packed with vehicles – and bicycles – of all makes and sizes. Some of the kids attending probably weren’t old enough to drink. No, most of them weren’t old enough to drink.

 

“Don’t exaggerate. There are only maybe two hundred. See, there’s a sexy mouse,” Stiles pointed out a small pink mouse walking on two legs towards the entrance.

 

“That’s a woman. Do you see any men wearing fluffy costumes? I don’t.” This had been a really bad idea. When Scott the moron had suggested that each couple choose their partner’s costume for the Halloween party, Derek had sensed an oncoming disaster. Why? Because Stiles was unpredictable and had a peculiar sense of humor. While Derek had gone out of his way to choose a flattering costume for his date, Stiles had gone off into the X-Rated section of some adult novelty shop in order to get him a sinfully seductive costume that was really more fit for the bedroom than anywhere outside. There was nothing more horrifying than the idea of someone getting turned on at seeing a grown man dressed up as a fluffy bunny.

 

“There are so many bags here. We’re going to have to take two or three turns bringing all this crap inside. Here, you take these two inside and find Scott. I’ll be right behind you.”

 

“But these are the heaviest bags,” Derek protested. Just because he had muscles didn’t mean that he should always get stuck lugging around the heaviest stuff.

 

“I know. Work those godly muscles! Now, off you go!”

 

Grumbling about bunny exploitation, Derek lugged his bags of Pepsi, 7Up, and Coca-Cola – because heaven forbid someone should want Coca-Cola instead of Pepsi – into the thundering, flashing inferno of a Halloween nightmare that Scott had turned the warehouse into. As soon as he pushed through the double doors, he was accosted by strobe lights and some kind of techno music that was vibrating through the cement foundation. Derek wasn’t a regular partygoer so at first he thought that he might be having a minor heart attack, but then realized that it was probably just permanent hearing damage.

 

 _Where is Scott? Find Scott and get out of here… Find Scott and get the HELL out of here!_ Derek chanted to himself, not knowing how on earth he was going to locate one teenager in a sea of maybe three hundred. Stiles had a problem with underestimating, that was for sure.

 

“Why hello there, fluffy bunny,” an alcohol-laced bubbly voice barked into Derek’s ear. His bunny ear.

 

Not this again. This reminded Derek of the time Stiles had sent him into Domino’s Pizza, where he’d run into that pair of horny biker dudes that had propositioned him on the spot. He hadn’t really understood why they’d kept asking him to check out the restroom with them until Stiles had come rushing in to tell them that he would cut off their genitals and mail them to Santa if they didn’t leave _his_ boyfriend alone. Now that had been a shocking – and eye-opening – experience. This man reminded Derek of those two perverts. Same tone, different atmosphere.

 

“Not interested and not available,” Derek said shortly, moving away from the older man who was dressed in a complete football player’s uniform, complete with hefty shoulder pads, the clunky looking helmet with the face cage, and black streaks under both eyes. On second thought… “Aren’t you a little old to be at this party? This is the Beacon Hills _High School_ Halloween party. Not the forty-something has-beens party.”

 

The man grinned a Cheshire cat’s grin with his full set of teeth and sidled closer, ignoring Derek’s visible outward discomfort. “Now that’s no way for a cute, fluffy bunny to speak to his elders,” he scolded. “But you’re right, this party sucks. Big time. Kids nowadays don’t know how to have a good time. There’s no pot. No street crack. And what is passing off as alcohol in here? The Shandy. Which is only the lamest drink ever invented for teenagers by teenagers. You know what I need, a drink for _real_ men. Like vodka or rum.”

 

“Then why don’t you try robbing a liquor store.” Derek really didn’t have time for this. He had to dump off the heavy plastic bags that were cutting into the furry paws his hands were encased in and help Stiles with the next load. Who had invited this loser anyway?

 

“Oh, you have spunk. I like that.” The football player wrapped an arm around Derek and pulled him close. “Come on, why don’t you tell me how much it’ll cost me to have a _private party_ with your cute little fluffy tail and we can get down to business.”

 

“Get your dirty old hands off of _my_ date! _”_

 

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise and relief when Stiles came barreling over to them, dropping his shopping bags so that his hands would be free for when he grabbed the man by his helmeted head, yanked the helmet off, and punched him in the nose.

 

“Shit! Stiles Stilinski, what the _fuck_?!”

 

“ _Holy shit! Coach Finstock?!”_

 

Derek looked at the awkward looking man with the overly gelled hair who was holding both hands over his bleeding nose and then back at Stiles. “You know this asshole?”

 

“He’s my lacrosse coach,” Stiles said incredulously. “My lacrosse coach had his hands on my boyfriend’s fluffy bunny tail!” Stiles wailed in a combination of disgust and potential psychological damage.

 

“Actually, your coach first complained about the lack of hard liquor and drugs at your party. Then he tried to rent me by the hour,” Derek complained in great discomfort. “I told you this costume was a bad idea.”

 

“ _Derek Hale_?” Coach Finstock gasped in total shock. Because while Derek might be unrecognizable in that bunny costume, Stiles’ high profile relationship with the former Beacon Hills High graduate was not. There wasn’t a man, woman, or child who hadn’t seen the two lovers frolicking around town in each other’s arms, making a point of flaunting their love for each other in everyone else’s faces. “I just tried to sex up Derek Hale?”

 

“Like hell that’s ever going to happen,” Derek growled, having the urge to turn Stiles’ lacrosse coach into a life-sized wolf scratching post.

 

“I dated your mother,” the slightly nauseated man blurted out.

 

“Stiles, I’m going to find Scott. Can you please tell this delusional man to find some friends his own age to embarrass and make physically ill?” Leaving Stiles to threaten the coach’s career if he ever laid a hand on his boyfriend again, Derek quickly lost himself in the crowd of frantically dancing teens. Judging by the way some of them were dancing, he wondered if maybe someone had managed to get drugs inside the party. That kind of movement just wasn’t normal.

 

* * *

 

Derek found Scott with Kira over by the snacks table. Well, he actually found them both on their hands and knees, picking up candy and cheerful Halloween ornaments that somebody – teenagers with no respect – had thrown all over the ground. It wasn’t difficult to see how the candy and ornaments had gotten that way. There were more kids lined up in front of the tables, grabbing for mini chocolate bars, stuffing some into their pockets, and not picking up whatever fell out of them. The ornaments were apparently in the way of the candy so they were just being carelessly knocked aside.

 

If Derek had thought that his costume was overly cute, Scott’s was completely ugly. Kira seemed to have some sort of Thor fetish because she’d chosen a costume resembling the Norse god of thunder from an online Marvel site without checking the sizing chart. The fake muscle body suit was too big on Scott’s small frame, the blond wig looked mismatched with Scott’s skin tone, and the hammer was bigger than his torso. On the other hand, Scott’s perversions were revealed in Kira’s sexy meter maid outfit. The skirt barely covered her ass and the police-blue button up shirt only covered her cleavage before it ran out of buttons. Derek would hate to know what those two did in their free time.

 

“Oh, look, Scott! It’s a cute, fluffy bunny!” Kira gushed, getting up with her hands full of treats to admire the reddening bunny. Thankfully the costume covered Derek’s cheeks so they couldn’t see how freaked out he was to hear Kira calling him a _cute, fluffy bunny_.

 

“Oh yeah, that is cute, isn’t it?” Scott said with a laugh. “Not as cute as you, but if we were ever in need of that third wheel you mentioned…”

 

“Oh, he would be _perfect_! Can we invite him? Please?”

 

 _Hold on a minute!_ Invite him to what? And what had Scott meant when he said _third wheel_?

 

“Sure, he’s much cuter than that dragon you had your eye on earlier.” Scott reached over and took Derek’s hand, pressing a folded up piece of paper into it. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves until the morning. Show up around midnight and prepare to have your cute fluffy tail put to some good use.”

 

 _No. Fucking. Way._ Scott McCall, alpha wolf, leader of the pack dickhead, had just invited Derek over for a threesome with Kira. Scott McCall had just…

 

“Scott, I think the bunny looks kind of pale,” Kira said suddenly. “That costume must be hot. Why don’t you take the ears off for a while and sit down with us?”

 

 _Save me! Stiles, save me!_ Derek smiled and waved his paw to show them that he was fine and then rushed out of there, hoping that they’d just think that he was shy or had to use the bathroom. _I hate Halloween. I hate this party. I hate knowing about what Scott does in his free time._

 

“Welcome back, my sexy bunny.” Stiles caught Derek as he tried to escape, hugging him and snuggling his furry face. “Hey, are you okay?” Reacting concerned to the way Derek was hyperventilating, Stiles tried to get the bunny hood undone from where it clasped under his chin.

 

“Don’t touch that,” Derek pleaded. “Keep it on or he’ll see who I am.”

 

“Who? What? Huh? Did you get another crude offer for your cute bunny tail? Poor Derek.” Stiles kissed Derek and smiled. “I know I should be feeling jealous but it’s actually a good feeling knowing that you have something that other people want.”

 

“Stiles, can we _please_ leave this party? Now?”

 

“My cute bunny-wolf, there is nothing you can say that would make me take you away from all this fun and candy.”

 

“Scott is after my tail!” Derek shoved the _call-me-anytime-to-join-in_ note that Scott had given him into Stiles’ hand and urgently began to drag his boyfriend towards the exit. “And it isn’t only Scott. His meter maid girlfriend also wants in on the action. So either you get me out of here or I’m going to bite the next person who looks at me. With my wolf teeth,” he added for good measure.

 

Stiles looked at Derek in a dazed, traumatized way for a moment before silently leading his boyfriend outside and away from the group of colorfully dressed strippers that raced into the building.


	3. Chapter 3

“Isn’t this much better?” Stiles asked two hours later as he was sitting down on a slab of stone, sorting through the stash of candy that he had accumulated on a 90-minute trick-or-treating outing. “No loud music. No perverted lacrosse teacher. No need to clean up the garbage afterwards.”

 

“Stiles, how old are you again?” Derek asked calmly, acting as if he didn’t already know the answer.

 

“Seventeen. Why?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I was just trying to see how you compared to the average trick-or-treater, who is like ten years old!”

 

“Huh. You don’t say,” Stiles said, sounding bored. “I don’t think that you can really judge me because you went door-to-door with me, and you’re twenty-one.”

 

“I was in full wolf form,” Derek grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and ignoring the candy that Stiles offered him. “Animals don’t count because they don’t hold out gigantic pillowcases in front of strangers and beg for cheap candy. And anyway, according to Gordon Ramsay, most of the candy you picked up is shit. Gordon Ramsay says that candy corn is made from earwax and formed into the shape of a rotten tooth. And circus peanuts are for idiots.”

 

“Gordon _who_?”

 

“Haven’t you seen Hell’s Kitchen?”

 

“Is that what you were watching when I stuck you in front of the TV last week? Why couldn’t you watch something more educational, like Prison Break?”

 

“Because you took away the remote controller.”

 

Oh, right, he did remember doing that at one point. But only to prevent Derek from breaking it by pressing several of the buttons at the same time. _Yum! Reese’s pieces peanut butter cups!_ Stiles ripped open the wrapper and sank his vampire teeth into the peanut buttery goodness that Hershey’s had invented. At least he had thought that it was a Reese’s pieces. It turned out to be a mini cheese ball instead, which utterly baffled Stiles’ taste buds because he had been expecting to taste chocolate and peanut butter. Maybe he had chosen a poorly lit location to enjoy his snacks in.

 

“Doesn’t my cute bunny-wolf want a 3 Musketeers bar?”

 

“I don’t know what that is. And no. I refuse to eat anything in front of _Reginald Arnold Trentworth the 3 rd’s_ gravestone.”

 

“Poor bastard. He really hung in there, huh?” Stiles said conversationally as he looked across at the gravestone that was directly in front of him. The guy had lived to be 103 years old and had outlived what looked like half his family before he’d finally bit it last year. Well, at least Stiles wasn’t sitting on a marked gravestone. The slab of rock that he’d found lying in the middle of the cemetery was thankfully blank and level on top, making it the perfect spot for a Halloween break. But for some superstitious reason, Derek would not join him on it. His wolf was pacing back and forth behind him, keeping a lookout for the caretaker who would most assuredly have a fit if he caught them disrespecting someone’s grave site. “Here’s to Reginald,” Stiles said joyfully, raising his bottle of 7-Up as if to toast the man lying in the grave before him. He might have added a little something to the carbonated beverage back in the car. Something that made it look a lot darker in color than it was supposed to look.

 

“Stiles, it’s almost midnight. Can we go home now?”

 

That made Stiles laugh. Poor wolf was afraid of the big bad boogeyman coming out at the stroke of midnight. It was just too damn adorable watching Derek fret over something supernatural coming after them because they’d intruded on the resting place of three hundred – give or take twenty – souls.

 

“After I finish with my pile here. I still have some Skittles, Butterfingers, and lollipops to go. I think I’ll toss out these Tootsie Rolls though. They’re nasty.”

 

“ _Get out of my bed_ ,” a low voice moaned at Stiles, causing the teen to nearly roll over laughing.

 

“Oh my God! Do that again! That was hilarious!” He’d never thought that Derek was capable of doing anything humorous, but that voice… Pure genius!

 

“Um… Stiles…”

 

“ _Get out of my bed!_ ”

 

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” Stiles laughed, choking on a Skittles and having to drink more of his 7-Up / Vodka concoction to get it down his throat. “Try something else. You should only use the same joke twice because it isn’t funny the third time.” When Derek hopped onto the slab of rock with him to begin shaking his shoulder urgently, Stiles stared at him as if he’d gone crazy. “What the hell, Derek?”

 

“ _Get out of my bed!”_

 

 _Uh oh…_ That hadn’t come from Derek. Stiles slowly turned his head to take in the zombie of a man who was coming at them from behind. He looked like he’d just been buried and then dug up again because he was doing a poor job of holding his body parts together and was covered in dirt from head to toe. “B—but this is an unmarked g—grave,” he stammered, trying to reason with the zombie. And then he realized what he was doing and gave a cry of fright. “Derek! Zombie! Run!” He grabbed his wolf’s arm and pulled him off of the rock, knocking candies everywhere. They ran across the cemetery, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the identity-blank zombie as possible. They didn’t stop until they were halfway across the northern section of the cemetery. And it took them a lot of energy to get there because Beacon Hills Cemetary was very generous with its plot sizes. The place was enormous! Big enough to bury all the town’s current inhabitants and then some.

 

“I tried to tell you…” Derek panted at Stiles’ side, trying to catch his breath as Stiles collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion.

 

“Only assholes say _I told you so_ ,” Stiles warned, having a difficult time calming his racing heart.

 

“ _Get away from our altar,_ ” a peculiar voice said by Stiles’ ear.

 

“Huh?”

 

“ _Get away from our altar,”_ the voice repeated, this time echoed by ten others.

When Stiles identified the source of the voices, he screamed like a girl and got to his feet, dragging Derek with him. “Goblins! Miniature goblins with pitchforks and chainsaws!” They escaped from the tree that was infested with the bony, bug-eyed, sharp-fanged pint-sized goblins, racing in the opposite direction of where a couple of identical trees stood. Stiles had gotten halfway across the cemetery before he noticed that Derek was no longer by his side. His boyfriend had transformed back to his full wolf form and was bounding off crazily up ahead of him, obviously not a big fan of goblins. _Look at that fluffy tail go!_ Stiles chased after the fluffy tail, trying not to feel too offended that Derek had abandoned his other fluffy tail – along with the entire sexy bunny costume – in goblin territory.

 

“ _Come into my cauldron,”_ a high pitched voice squealed at Stiles and his wolf, freaking them both out, and sending them tearing off in yet another direction.

 

Stiles listened intently to the sharp yips and growling that Derek was making but couldn’t understand a bloody word of wolf song. The only thing he could do was follow his wolf through the cemetery, weaving past gravestones and nearly tripping on more of the undead, all the while hoping that Derek knew where the fuck he was headed. “Are we anywhere near an exit?” He hollered over the screeching monster bats that were trying to rip off chunks of his hair as they dove at him with their bloody fangs.

 

Without answering, Derek leapt over a low fence and kept running, now making tracks through the neighboring pumpkin patch. _Swell! Not a main road,_ Stiles thought glumly. But it was still better than a haunted graveyard. Damn, could his wolf ever run! It must be nice to have four legs. The only reason why Derek was even still in sight was because he had intentionally slowed down to allow Stiles to catch up.

 

“We’re safe in the pumpkin patch, right?” He heaved, coming to a stop near a particularly large Jack O’ Lantern, leaning on it to catch his breath.

 

“ _Wrong,_ ” the carved pumpkin said to him, cackling evilly when Stiles screamed and Derek howled like someone had stepped on his tail. The pumpkin’s entire face was glowing, lit up on the inside by an unnatural fire source that belonged to no candle or manmade invention. “ _Nobody is safe in the pumpkin patch._ ”

 

“Holy shit! What are we, cursed?” Stiles took off running again, this time leading the way because he didn’t trust his wolf’s sense of direction anymore. For all he knew, the sinister magic of Halloween was messing with Derek’s wolf powers and was going to end up with them running into another creepy trap. “Okay, you were right,” he shouted at Derek by his side. “I never should’ve joined that group of ten-year-olds, and I never should’ve decided to eat snacks on top of some dead guy’s grave. Marked or unmarked.”

 

Derek barked in agreement, darting right and left to avoid the lethal pumpkins that were trying to chomp on his paws or wrap their vines around his neck and tail.

 

Halloween was supposed to be all superstitious fun. There weren’t actually supposed to be zombies in the graveyard, possessed pumpkins in the pumpkin patch, or goblins camped out in the trees. What was Beacon Hills coming to? “There’s only one place nearby that’s safe right now,” Stiles gasped as he spotted his jeep at the end of the field and made a beeline for it. Judging by the way Derek sprinted for the car, he no doubt agreed with him.

 

* * *

 

_30 minutes later…_

“Stiles! Where were you? We didn’t think you were coming,” Scott said in surprise when Stiles and Derek dragged themselves back into the warehouse that was still filled with partygoers, as well as an ample supply of drinks and candy.

 

“Um… we had a bit of trouble getting here,” Stiles said sheepishly, while Derek remained deadly silent beside him.

 

“Where did you get those costumes?”

 

Although Scott was trying his best to be polite, it was obvious that he didn’t approve of the cheap dollar store black cat ears that were standing up on Derek’s head, or the red plastic mask and matching pitchfork that made up Stiles’ costume.

 

“We had an accident with our original costumes,” Stiles calmly informed Scott. Nothing could get him to divulge what he’d done to his costume. Because then he would have to explain to Scott how a phantom cockroach had gotten into it in the first place. And he doubted that Derek was too keen on Scott finding out that he’d been the one wearing the sexy bunny costume in the first place. “This was the best we could do at the last minute.”

 

“Oh, well, sorry to hear that. You two look kind of depressed. Why don’t you get a drink and help yourself to the candies? There are still quite a few Reese’s pieces left.”

 

“Scott, my friend, _you_ are a lifesaver,” Stiles breathed in relief, wrapping an arm around Derek and leading him to a free bowl of chocolate covered calories. He vowed that the next time they celebrated Halloween, it would be in a church.


End file.
